


Sing Me to Sleep, Bastard

by whenshewrites



Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [92]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barista Stiles, Crack, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Only slight angst, Sleepy Kisses, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23730136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: “Derek?”Derek stared at Stiles for a long moment. Then he turned and walked right back out of the cafe. Stiles stared in shock, unable to breathe. Because that had been Derek— the bastard who’d left town four months ago— and hadn’t been in contact since.Stiles was gonna kill him.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Collection of One-Shots and Tumblr Prompts [92]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956889
Comments: 26
Kudos: 537





	Sing Me to Sleep, Bastard

Stiles was tired.

Like, pulling at his soul, trying to drag him into an early grave, tired. He’d say he wished for the sweet relief of death but after everything he’d faced, that would be a crappy way to go. So, Stiles continued to trudge through his shift at the open 24/7 coffee shop and tried not to think about how he could be sleeping right now.

His co-worker noticed. 

“Stiles, the bags under your eyes literally have their own bags.” 

Stiles screwed up his face and groaned, dropping his head onto the counter. The shop was empty other than one other person— another college student, by the looks of it— because no one else in their right mind would come out this late. On weekends, Stiles’s shifts didn’t end until four in the morning. So of course, he was exhausted.

“Thanks,” he said, turning his head toward Milo. “I didn’t notice.”

“Have you been sleeping?”

In truth? Stiles had not been sleeping. When he wasn’t working, he was attending classes at Beacon Hills Community College. When he wasn’t attending classes, he was chasing the monster of the week around town. Quite frankly, he never seemed to be sleeping.

But he couldn’t tell Milo that.

“Of course I’ve been sleeping,” Stiles said with a laugh. “Who doesn’t love sleep? I love sleep. I would marry sleep if that was acceptable.”

Milo raised a brow. Stiles could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“I’ve just been stressed with school,” he said, shrugging. “You know how it goes.”

That finally made Milo grin. The guy chuckled, turning back to the mug he was cleaning, and nodded. “Damn right I know how it goes. Life’s a bitch, man.”

Life was a bitch. And Stiles was just doing his best to survive it.

He lifted his head off the counter and focused again on the book he’d sneakily read between customers. The last thing Stiles’s brain wanted to do was read Hemingway at the moment, but his professor insisted the author was a classic and therefore a must-read for the class. Stiles thought it was a miracle he hadn’t thrown the book out a window yet.

He’d gotten close. Multiple times.

Suddenly, the bell over the door rang. Stiles slapped his book shut and stuffed it out of sight, raising his head with a smile that was all sorts of professional. Only, the expression melted when he saw who’d entered. One such figure who’d frozen the moment he’d seen Stiles too.

“Derek?”

Derek blinked, staring at him for a long moment. Then he turned and walked right back out of the cafe. Stiles stared in shock and Milo shot him a confused glance. “Dude?”

“Did you just see that too?”

“Um, yeah. Do you know that guy or something?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles ripped his apron off. It really had been Derek— Derek Hale— the bastard who’d left town four months ago without so much of an explanation, and hadn’t been in contact since. Milo was looking at Stiles like he was crazy.

“Stiles, is everything alright?”

“Can you finish the rest of this shift without me?” Stiles asked, still struggling to pull his apron up around his head. “I swear I’ll be in your debt forever, seriously.”

“Sure, man,” Milo said. “I got your back.”

Stiles finally ripped off his apron and shot Milo a grin, dropping it to the floor. He didn’t even bother with his book— Hemingway could suck it— and scrambled over the counter. “Thank you so much, dude! I owe you!”

He didn’t hear Milo’s response as he stumbled outside. Derek’s camaro was already peeling out of the parking lot, but Stiles had him in his sights. The bastard wasn’t going anywhere.

Roscoe, thankfully, started without a struggle. Backing out, Stiles hit the gas and started in the direction Derek’s car had vanished. He couldn’t believe Derek actually had the nerve to come back to town, to see Stiles in the coffee shop, and then leave. Like Stiles was going to grow fangs of his own and rip his throat out of something.

Though, shit, if Stiles did have fangs, he just might. He was pissed.

Of course, Derek headed to his loft. The same loft that had been empty for four months, no matter how many times Stiles had driven past. And he did drive past. Every day at first, then weekly. Eventually, he’d just given up, because it was obvious Derek wasn’t coming back.

Stiles had moped for weeks. Scott didn’t even understand why.

Stiles wasn’t willing to admit why.

Derek must have gotten there in record time because the Camaro was empty. Stiles stuffed his keys into his pocket and stalked toward the loft. He punched in the security code to the alarm, because the last thing he wanted was to let Derek known he’d followed him, and stalked upstairs. 

Still, he imaged Derek would catch his scent.  _ Good,  _ he thought.  _ Let him.  _ Stiles was willing to make Derek squirm.

He pulled the door open and stalked inside. Derek was pacing in the middle of the room and spun around, freezing as Stiles approached. His eyes were wide like a deer caught in headlights and Stiles jabbed a finger right into his chest, fury billowing over.

“Derek, you asshole, what the hell? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were back in town! No, no, actually I totally can, but I can’t believe you just ran like that. Dude! What the  _ hell? ” _

“Stiles.”

“Stiles? Stiles? That’s all you have to say? That’s so messed up, Derek!”

Derek reached up, taking Stiles’s hand, and pulled his finger away from his chest. Stiles did his best to continue scowling, but it was hard when Derek was practically holding his hand and looking like Stiles’s words had somehow gutted him. Even though he was the bastard who’d gone missing for four months. “Hey, Stiles.”

Stiles gaped at him. He couldn’t believe Derek had come back to Beacon and the first actual sentence he said was  _ ‘Hey, Stiles.’  _ It was so terrible. So wrong. It wasn’t fair.

“I hate you,” Stiles said. Derek flinched away and Stiles cursed himself, trying again. “Okay, fine, I don’t really hate you. But dude, where the hell did you go? Do you realize how long it’s been? Do you realize how worried I was?”

“You were worried?”

_ Shit, fuck.  _ “The pack was worried.”

“But you said you.”

“No, stop twisting my words, Sourwolf. I meant the pack.”

Derek raised a brow and Stiles wanted to punch him for having the audacity to look like that. But instead, he deflated and glanced around the loft. 

“How long have you been back?”

“Only tonight.”

Stiles looked back at him. “You couldn’t have called? At least once to let me— to let us— know you were okay? The last time you vanished we found you buried in Aztec temple with a werejaguar out for revenge, dude. Anything could have happened.”

“I needed some time to get my head straight,” Derek said, letting go of his hand. Stiles tried not to feel too disappointed at the loss of contact. “I had to think about some things.”

“Things? What things could possibly be more important than the pack?”

Derek wouldn’t look at him. Stiles felt something in his chest twist and snap and he pulled away, crossing his arms over his chest. A chill raced up his spine.

“Leaving was an asshole thing to do, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek said softly. Stiles glared at him.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please when you vanish for four months straight and then turn up out of nowhere without an explanation.”

Derek’s eyelashes fluttered. Struck by sudden guilt, Stiles took a deep breath.

“Don’t you realize Scott still needs you around? Just because he’s an Alpha and we’ve all graduated from high school doesn’t mean all the big baddies of Beacon Hills have suddenly gone away. They haven’t decided to give us a break just because we’re growing up, Derek. Hell, Lydia almost died last week because of a vengeful fairy!”

“I’m sorry,” Derek muttered, flinching away. He actually looked pained and that broke Stiles’s heart. Because everything Stiles had said was true. But not the whole truth. More people than Scott needed Derek Hale to remain in Beacon Hills. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Are you going to leave again?”

“What?” Derek looked at him in shock, eyes going wide. Stiles resisted the urge to curl up in on himself at the expression.

“Are you going to leave again? Or are you back for good?”

“Stiles,” Derek said, voice cracking slightly. The older man stepped forward, then hesitated, hands clenching in and out of fists at his sides. He ducked his head. “I’m here now.”

“But for how long?”

“As long as you’ll have me.”

Stiles looked at him in sharp confusion. Derek’s eyes searched his own, looking more vulnerable than Stiles had ever seen them. He looked cautious and scared. It was wrong.

“... Is that okay, Stiles?”

“Why did you leave, Derek?” Stiles asked shakily. “What were things?”

“I—” Derek trailed off. Stiles clenched his jaw.

“Derek, why the hell did you leave?”

Derek suddenly squared his shoulders and turned away, stalking across the room. The sudden change of mood was startling. “You should go, Stiles. I’m back now and you said what you came to.”

Stiles stared after him. Derek grabbed his bag and started unpacking, acting like Stiles was already gone. The man wouldn’t look back at him. Stiles blinked, turning toward the loft door, but then he stopped, turning back around. Frustration and anger crashed over him.

“You know what? No, Derek, you don’t get to do that!” Derek looked up at him, startled, and Stiles stalked forward again. “You don’t get to push me away, not again! Now, I’m sick and tired of  _ thinking  _ about you and wondering if I’m being an idiot  _ caring  _ about you—”

“Caring about me?”

“— Don’t interrupt, Derek, I’m ranting here! It’s been three years since I got my head out of my ass and considered the possibility of having feelings for you, but that’s kind of hard when your always angsting and disappearing off the face of the earth—”

Stiles was cut off again, but this time because Derek’s lips were pressed against his. 

He gasped in shock and went still, and Derek started to pull back with the word  _ ‘sorry’  _ already falling off his lips. But then Stiles was wrapping his hands around Derek’s neck and pulling him back in. He kissed the man back, hard and hungry. 

Derek pressed back with equal ferocity. It was a battle of teeth and tongues, and Stiles had no idea why they hadn’t started doing this sooner. He stumbled back until he hit the wall and then Derek picked him up so Stiles could wrap his legs around his waist. He did so, nipping down the man’s neck before shoving his lips against his again. Derek growled deep in his throat. Stiles felt the sound go straight to his groin.

“Der—” Stiles gasped between breaths. “Derek, we should—”

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, pressing a hard kiss against his lips again. Stiles closed his eyes with a moan and a shudder ran through the older man’s body. Stiles couldn’t help but smirk as he moaned again, thrusting his hips forward this time. Derek’s grip tightened.  _ “Stiles.” _

“Derek,” Stiles responded raspily. He closed his eyes as stubble traced down his neck and Derek’s lips breezed over skin, trailing down to his collarbone. The man latched on and sucked a mark there, making Stiles moan again. He could feel the way Derek reacted to that, hands clenching tighter around his hips. Derek pulled back again and before Stiles could whine about the lack of contact, Derek’s lips were ghosting across his again.

“Derek,” Stiles murmured.

Derek finally pulled back then, breaking them apart. His eyes were hazy. Stiles smiled back at him, feeling like he’d just been dunked underwater. His lips felt warm and puffy.

“So… you’re back.”

Derek blinked a few times. “Didn’t we just establish that?”

“I’d have you stay,” Stiles whispered. “If you want.”

“Of course,” Derek said. “I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Stiles smiled again. “Because now that I’m broken, I’m bought, and you’re stuck with me.”

“I broke you?” Derek said incredulously. Stiles grinned.

“Well, not yet. But that can always be arranged.”

Derek’s eyes darkened and he growled, hitching Stiles up higher on his hips. Turning, he carried him to the bed and dumped him down unceremoniously, making Stiles squawk in protest. But instead of kissing him again or doing anything  _ else,  _ Derek righted him up and pulled the covers aside, before stuffing Stiles in. Then he pulled the covers back up. Stiles stared.

“Derek, what the hell are you doing?”

“It’s two in the morning, Stiles. You reek of exhaustion.”

“But Derek,” Stiles whined, trying to thrust his hips back up. “I was promised a good and proper breaking!”

Derek smirked down at him. “You look pretty broken to me.”

“Okay, now that’s just rude. You can’t leave me like this!”

Derek sat down on edge of the bed and carded his fingers through Stiles’s hair, face softening. Stiles relaxed unconsciously into the touch and nuzzled Derek’s giant hand, making the man chuckle. Stiles stiffened and narrowed his eyes at him.

“Stop that.”

“What?” Derek asked innocently, drawing his hand away. “That?”

“No, you asshole,” Stiles whined. “Laughing at me.”

“I’m not laughing,” Derek said, leaning over to press his lips against Stiles’s once more. Then he pulled back an inch, so his breaths were hot on Stiles’s face when he whispered, “I was chuckling.”

“Asshole,” Stiles shoved him away. Derek laughed openly this time.

Stiles didn’t want to admit it, but he was tired. He’d been tired even before all of whatever this was. Oh god, whatever this was. Stiles would have a panic attack about that in the morning. He was too tired to think straight right now.

_ Ha,  _ he thought.  _ Think straight. _

Stiles thought about mentioning his genius to Derek, but the man’s fingers were in his hair again. Stiles closed his eyes automatically against the touch and he sighed, relaxing back into the pillows. He could still taste Derek on his lips; like cinnamon. It was nice, he decided sleepily.

“Derek,” he said softly. The man’s ministrations paused. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Stiles.”

“No really,” Stiles repeated, already half asleep. “Don’t leave me again.”

He felt Derek lean forward, lips touching his forehead. Gentle fingers pulled the blankets all the way up to Stiles’s neck. “I promise.”

“Good,” Stiles murmured. “Now sing me to sleep, bastard.”

Derek chuckled against his skin. The vibration sent a shiver down his spine, somehow making his body relax even more. Carefully, Derek pulled back, though his fingers traced down Stiles’s arm and sketched circles over the back of his hand. Stiles could feel himself dropping.

The last thing he heard sounded suspiciously like humming.

**Author's Note:**

> I adore you guys! Your comments and support mean the world, I swear. I hope you all enjoyed this little one shot! Also, come hang with me on Tumblr or something, cause you're all amazing
> 
> [ https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com](https://when-she-writes-stuff.tumblr.com)


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